


Vladimir's Goes to The Cheesecake Factory

by comacoma



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Clearly Canonical Noxian Culture, Gen, The Cheesecake Factory, shitpost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comacoma/pseuds/comacoma
Summary: As he entered, the receptionist greeted him amiably, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Do you have a reservation today, sir?"He offered her an effortlessly charming smile. "Yes. It should be under Vladimir Leagueoflegends, for 8pm."
Kudos: 6





	Vladimir's Goes to The Cheesecake Factory

Vladimir arrived at the gates of The Cheesecake Factory at 7:58 sharp, fully prepared for his reservation at 8pm. He entered at his own leisure, approaching the needlessly tall double doors. As he entered, the receptionist greeted him amiably, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Do you have a reservation today, sir?"

He offered her an effortlessly charming smile. "Yes. It should be under Vladimir Leagueoflegends, for 8pm."

Recognition suddenly flashed across her features, eyes going wide with shock. _The_ Vladimir Leagueoflegends? Renowned food critic of Noxus? Indeed it was.

Her smile widened, but it was taught with anxiousness. "Thank you for choosing to dine with The Cheesecake Factory, Count Leagueoflegends. Please, this way."

He nodded, allowing her to take the lead, and she seated him next to a obscenely yellowed pillar. Perfect. The complete Cheesecake Factory experience. He sat gracefully down, the stupid knives on his dumbass sleeves catching on the table, which actually made it not very graceful at all, and in fact caused some property damage. The host hurried away after promising his server would be with him shortly. After half a minute of unsticking the points of his blades from the tabletop, his server did appear.

"Hello," she greeted, voice monotonous. "My name is Katarina Sinisterblade, and I'll be your server tonight."

"Delightful," he replied as she handed him a menu.

"Could I get you something to drink, sir?" she asked.

He hummed in contemplation, browsing the menu. "Yes. Do you serve blood?"

To Katarina's credit, her facial expression remained excessively neutral. "No, Sir. Unfortunately we don't serve blood."

"No matter," he replied, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "A Sprite Cranberry then."

"Will normal Sprite do?"

 _No, not really,_ Vladimir whined internally. His craving for either blood or Sprite Cranberry™, if left unsatisfied, could lead to much bloodshed. "I would prefer A Sprite Cranberry," Vladimir repeated, frowning.

Katarina blinked at him in thought. "Perhaps you would like me to prepare a glass of Sprite with a cranberry teabag in it for you, Sir. Would that suffice?"

He smiled, accepting this laurel. "That would be divine."

"Okay." She teleported away in a flash of red, leaving Vladimir to browse his menu.

Eventually, Katarina returned, dropping down from the ceiling as any proper Noxian host staff would. Not a drop of his Sprite 'Cranberry' jumped from the glass, showcasing her superior waiting skills. "Here you are, Sir." She placed it down on the table. "May I take your order?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you." He handed her the menu. "I will have the Tex Mex Eggrolls and the Baja Chicken Tacos."

"Alright," she responded. He took a sip of the Sprite. ...It would do. No blood would be shed today within the poorly lit halls of The Cheesecake Factory.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?"

"No, that is all." Upon being dismissed she phased back into the void, leaving him to enjoy his Sprite. Vladimir brooded quietly to himself, pleased that he could enjoy his favorite passtime of doing so while drinking a good drink even here, in The Cheesecake factory. He eyed the obscenely gaudy architecture (truly divine) until Katarina finally returned, this time walking normally up to the table, her skills already having been proven.

"Here you are sir. Your Tex Mex Eggrolls and Baja Chicken Tacos. I've also brought you another Sprite Cranberry as I noticed your glass was almost empty." Her expression was quite serious, nearly a glare, but Vladimir knew this was merely the sign of a waitress dedicated to her craft.

"Thank you, Katarina Sinisterblade," he responded, applauding her efforts. "A divine job."

Seemingly satisfied, she once again slipped back into the shadow of a nearby Tuscan pillar. Vladimir turned his attention to his meal, observing the food before him. There was a reason he was the greatest Noxian food critic to ever live. Partially because he was immortal, but more importantly, he had an eye for the great art of cuisine. The Tex Mex Eggrolls were nothing special. Completely ordinary by all means. However, something about these specific Baja Chicken Tacos haunted him. Such craftsmanship. Such elegance. Yes, truly a masterpiece made for the gods. This is what every Baja Chicken Taco _deserved_ to be.

Katarina returned to her table fifteen minutes later, perplexed to see her patron staring quietly at the Baja Chicken Tacos in front of him as if enraptured. Surely, they were cold by now...? And yet they seemed untouched. She approached with caution, knowing the man's reputation as harshest food critic in all of Noxus— Had he found something wrong with his dish, the establishment may end up a slaughter. A shame, because she'd only been employed here about a week, and she really needed this job to fund her compulsive purchasing of knives off of craigslist. "Is something wrong, Sir?" she asked.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


End file.
